Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Flyin Solo

I have others things I have to write (if you think you can act hit me up) I'll be back with a normal post tomorrow, but today im just gonna leave you with a poem, Hope you like it:


Flying Solo

I’d love to travel past the stars

Past the moon and way past mars

To the end of all we know

Just for fun and not for show


I’d love to travel across the seas

Willing victim of the ocean breeze

Sailing through the day and night

In good faith and not in spite


I’d love to fly above the clouds

Free of ties and loose from vows

By myself amongst the blue

Just for me and not for you


I’d love to go so that I may

Learn to live a basic way

To find my path all on my own

To understand without being shown


Well P.S.

I finished what else i needed to write so.... its kinda long, but its a short story that i might turn into a screenplay for episode one of a show. It will be a lot funnier once its a show, i just kinda had to establish whats going on, a chapter 1 if you will. As with anything, let me know what you think.



Late

Arthur Wilkes woke up at 8:30 on Tuesday morning. He is supposed to be at work in 15 minutes, and works 30 minutes away. Clearly, he will be late again. His performance is extremely well, but he’s been late too many times in the past couple months. His boss has been acting strange lately, so he can’t afford to be too late. He rushes to his closet to throw on some clothes. Typically very well put together, he reaches for the first unwrinkled shirt he can find, and throws on the same slacks he wore the day before. Conveniently, he had forgot to take his keys and wallet out of his pants so, skipping brushing his teeth, he puts on his shoes and is out the door. Speeding absent-mindedly down a very narrow road, Arthur is unaware of how fast he is going. From underneath a parked car, a cat jolts into the middle of the road. He swerves hard to the right, and then makes a move back to the left. He dodges the cat and looks back to confirm…

BOOM! He slams on the brakes! He runs out of his car to check what he’s hit, within seconds he realizes that its a man, and its clear that he’s dead. He drops to his knees and begins to shiver violently. However, he does not remain in this state for long. After a moment, his adrenaline kicks in; He may have just killed a man, but he needs to get to work. If he doesn't show up today he will be fired, and he has rent due on Friday, and a car note that needs to be taken care of; he closes the trunk, and speeds off to work.

Upon arriving at work, everything seems oddly silent. Everywhere he looks, is another bitter stare. Uncomfortable, he hurries to his desk. Finally with a moment to think, he franticly races through possible ways to deal with his situation. He realizes now that he cannot turn himself in now; Even though it was really an accident, he had taken the body and fled the scene; no one would believe his story. All of a sudden, he realized the magnitude of what he'd done, he begins to feel terrible and is soon completely overtaken with grief. He spent the next hour or so perplexed and in his own world of pain. Abruptly, his boss calls his name from across the room, and tells him to come to his office. Feeling as if his nervousness is visible from space, he takes a few deep breaths and heads forward, to await his fate.

"Arthur, you may not have noticed, but for sometime now, we have been paying very close attention to you,” says his boss, even though is had been painfully obvious that they had been closely watching him for about a month now.

"Basically, I have one question for you Arthur. Do you like your job here?"

Arthur froze. Images flashed through his head of the lifeless body lying there on the side of the road. Beginning to spiral back into a state of agonizing guilt, he could only think to blurt out one thing.

"I killed a man on my way to work today sir!" He proclaimed, feeling a sense of relief as soon as the words left his mouth. His boss sat silently for a moment, appearing to give thought to Arthur’s peculiar statement.

"That’s all I need to hear… You’re going to be the new VP of sales Arthur." He had clearly not taken Arthur seriously, but instead, had mistaken his deadly confession, as dedication to his trade.

"Frankly, we like you. Your actions, and certainly, your *ahem* choice of words, may seem a bit cavalier to others; but here up top, we think it is just the thing we need to push sales further"

The rest of the conversation played out like a blur. It ended with him shaking his boss’s hand and being escorted to his new office. Sitting down at his new desk and his new chair, a mental image of him shaking hands with the devil kept popping into his head. He hadn't asked for his boss to mistake his words, but nor could he blame him. He was a very good worker, he insisted to himself. There were never any problems besides showing up a little late every once in a while. He presumed, that since he wasn't, in fact, a murderer, that his boss just assumed he was making a dark joke (which he occasionally did). Murderer no, but a killer? He had killed a man, and for about 3 hours now, he had been covering it up. He decided that he needed to think about what to do in the peace and quiet of his house, and since he was the newly appointed Vice President of sales, he could come and go as he pleased.

He had intentionally parked his car in the back of the lot, to avoid people perhaps smelling the body, so he was slightly winded by the time he got to his car. He opened the door and got in; throwing his head back and fiercely grabbing the wheel, he let out a scream:

"AHHHHHH!"

"Would you keep it down!" sounded an unidentified voice.

He whirled around to check who it was. His eyes swelled and his nerves tensed as if he had been punched in the gut. He was staring at the man he had run over that morning. He felt his stomach drop so hard, he figured he could find it in china, should he ever need it again. Immobilized and trembling with fear, he managed to muster a pathetic offering:

"Your…Your not real! Your not really there! Its impossible, im hallucinating!" he said madly, still shaking like he had just dove into ice water to impress a girl.

"Well that depends really. On what your definition of real is,"

All of a sudden, he teleported to the passenger seat of the car.

"I mean, are numbers real? You can’t grab number, you can’t talk or interact with them, but Im willing to bet you would feel comfortable agreeing with me that they exist, correct. Furthermore, even if I weren't real and you were hallucinating, which I can assure you your not, I’d still be here, with you, right now."

Still quite afraid, but slowly coming to his senses, Arthur forcefully rubbed his eyes, attempting to rub away this talking reminder of his sins.

"I'll just be here I guess… waiting for you to calm down, man up, and drive us home." said the ghost sarcastically. "Im not going to kill you or anything! On the contrary, I'm actually quite all right with this. Didn't really have much going on for me, so I suppose this is pretty much an improvement." Finally coming to grips with the situation, Arthur spoke,

"So, let me attempt to wrap my head around what’s going on here. If im correct, and please feel free to stop me at any time, you are dead, and happy about it..."

The ghost nodded, Arthur went on.

"Okay, so you also seem to be haunting me? Am I correct"

"You are Sir!" gleefully responded the ghost.

"But you’re not mad at me? Like enough to kill me or anything?"

"No, not at all sir!"

"Well, in that case, what would you like me to do with your body? Its the least I can do for you…"

"I think you should bury me in your backyard." answered the ghost.

After some thought, he decided that a backyard burial would be the most logical idea, and the least suspicious. Plus, the ghost insisted that no one would be coming to look for him, nor would his disappearance raise any red flags anywhere. The idea of having a dead body in his backyard, let alone that of the man he killed, was not exactly sitting well with Arthur, but, he had began to feel, that nothing from here on out, ever would.

He put the keys in the inanition and started the engine.

"So what’s your name? For what its worth im sorry, you seem like a good guy to Me." apologetically offered Arthur.

"Mike. Mike Isner. And no worries, like I said, I was actually not such a good guy. All this floating around, and teleporting is a hell of a lot more fun than anything I had chance to do alive."

"Well in that case, feel free to teleport and float at my house whenever you want"

Arthur drove home, with Mike riding shotgun, occasionally he would teleport to the backseat all of a sudden, as if out of sheer boredom. When they got to the house, Arthur pulled the latch to release the trunk. He got out and grabbed the body. For the rest of day, he chatted with mike, as he dug a grave. When completed they both felt compelled to hold an impromptu funeral.

"Well, traditionally, the killer would probably be the last person speaking at the victims funeral, but today has been anything but traditional, and it seems almost appropriate. To say I knew you well, Mike Isner, would be a bald-faced lie. But any man who can forgive his killer the same day he was killed, couldn't have been to bad a man."

This almost seemed to choke Mike up, who to this point, had been fairly emotionless. He smiled at Arthur as if to confirm once more, that all was indeed forgiven.

"Im sorry Mike… I know its lame, but that really all I got. Feel free to hang out here if you want every now and then." said Arthur.

"Well, Art! I might just take you up on that offer!"

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